


how rare and beautiful

by canniballistics



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/pseuds/canniballistics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam was asleep, and Ronan couldn't stop staring at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how rare and beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> hello i'm back with more dumb boys in love!! and this time they're not!! even!! doing anything!! OH MY GOD. i am so gay. 
> 
> as usual, inspiration came from [marty-mc](http://marty-mc.tumblr.com), this time from a sketch she posted on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/MartySketch/status/715663456142286848). recommended listening for a general mood for the work (and the title) is sleeping at last's [saturn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3lWwMHFhnA), this time.
> 
> HAPPY THE RAVEN KING RELEASE DATE!! i hope my book comes in soon so i can cry for the rest of my life. tumblr version of this can be found [here](http://canniballistics.tumblr.com/post/143420070413/how-rare-and-beautiful), in case anyone likes it and feels like sharing!

Adam was asleep, and Ronan couldn't stop staring at him. 

When he thought about how he'd gotten to this point, it didn't seem possible. There was a sort of cognitive dissonance in the way, full of doubts and fast cars and impossible forests, and a boy through whom miracles were worked. A boy who spoke for the trees, who was something worldly and other, who cast about with starving eyes and said not a word about his hunger. A boy who, at present, was curled up on his side and fast asleep. 

No matter how he thought about it, Ronan couldn't figure out just how they'd gotten here. Chronologically, it made sense: Adam had asked him for help, so he'd helped. Despite his casual air, Ronan hadn't cared where they were going, or why. Theirs was still a new sort of closeness, a burgeoning relationship that he still didn't know quite how to name. Any time they managed away from the others, Ronan coveted; he wasn't sure how else he was supposed to figure it out. They'd gone to fix a blockage on the ley line, and as soon as they removed it, a prickle had run up Ronan's back. He'd looked at Adam, and there was something old behind his eyes when he looked back. As soon as they got back to Monmouth, Adam had nearly fallen into his bed. 

That made sense. Almost. What _didn't_ was the comfort with which he laid down, the casual acceptance as Ronan delicately sat on the edge next to him. The feeling of fingertips creeping along the back of his hand, before Adam's fingers gently curled around his own. And the way it had only seemed logical, after Adam had dozed off, to lay down beside him. 

They'd only been dating (did it count as dating if all they really did was drive together?) for a few weeks, a month at the most. Ronan liked Adam; of that, he was certain. The part that worried him, that scared him, was the foreign desire to be as close to him as possible, the need to monopolize as much of Adam's time as he could, and the sharp jealousy that coursed through him when he couldn't. There was an almost childish desire to impress him, for approval that (also logically) he knew he didn't actually need. He didn't need it, but he wanted it, and for some reason, that made all the difference.

In all honesty, it was a shitty feeling. They were _all_ shitty feelings. Who decided that this was what liking someone felt like? And _why_?

Ronan froze as Adam sighed in his sleep, a quiet thing accompanied by the loosening of tension in his shoulders, fingers going just a little bit slack around Ronan's. He was peaceful like this, expression clear of the near-constant consternation that had slowly begun creeping over him the last few months. Best of all, there was no sign of Cabeswater anywhere here, save for maybe a whiff of rain and leaves when he inhaled too deeply. He let out a low breath, trying to allow that quiet tranquility to seep into him. 

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to rest. Maybe Adam had the right idea. Ronan shifted as he tried to get comfortable, nosing into the pillow and so very careful not to disturb the way their hands sat together. Rest. It was a simple concept that was difficult to put into practice. His eyes wouldn't stay closed, mind wouldn't stop racing, heart wouldn't stop trying to pound its way out of his chest. His hand tightened reflexively around Adam's, and after a moment, he gave up on sleeping entirely.

Instead, Ronan let his gaze map Adam's face as he slept, committing to memory the line of his brow and the way his lips were parted just slightly. The freckles across his face, and how his hair fell over his forehead. Ronan hesitated for a moment, before lifting a hand and gently brushing what hair he could back. Anything for a clearer view of Adam's face, and yet after, he found he couldn't draw his hand away. It could barely be called a touch; still, he traced his fingertips along his skin, from hairline to temple, to the shell of Adam's ear and the corner of his jaw. His fingers stilled there, palm gentle as he settled it along Adam's neck, his eyes slipping along to steal a glance at lips. They shifted, tempting, and when Ronan flicked his gaze up to Adam's eyes, he froze upon finding they were open. 

Adam watched him for a second, a minute, an eternity. There was no condemnation in his face, no surprise or anger that Ronan had been so free in touching him. Instead, he let his eyes pass over Ronan's face, studying whatever it was he found there, and sighed, "It's okay."

Idly, Ronan wondered when his hand had begun to tremble. It was hard to breathe, slow as he took one deep breath, another. Still, Adam gave no indication that he was upset, didn't seem uncomfortable with Ronan's hand on him. So quietly, daringly, Ronan took a chance, fingers braver than he felt as his thumb brushed along Adam's cheek, his jaw. A small smile quirked Adam's lips. Ronan could feel his cheeks heating.

"You were supposed to be asleep," he murmured sullenly.

Adam frowned, and for a second, Ronan panicked that it was the wrong thing to say. Words began flashing through his head, trying to rearrange themselves into something that could be called an apology, an excuse. Adam sat up on his elbow, leaning in so that his right ear was closer instead of pressed into the pillow. "What?"

_Oh. I am such an asshole._

His cheeks flushed, and this time there was a slight hint of shame mixed in with it. But Adam was settling his chin on Ronan's chest, making himself comfortable there; maybe things were still okay. "You were supposed to be asleep," Ronan repeated, just a hint louder.

There was a huff of a laugh. "You think too loud," was Adam's only response as he folded an arm across Ronan's chest, pillowing his head on top of it. 

Inexplicably, it brought a grin to Ronan's face. He settled onto his back, letting his fingers work their way into Adam's hair and absently rub at his scalp. Adam shifted, half on top of him, It was comfortable, quiet, and for some reason, increasingly unbearable. Adam had begun to lean into Ronan's hand, his eyelids drooping but not quite closed yet. Something intangible was creeping up inside of Ronan, started behind his lungs and slowly made its way up into the back of his throat. It was too big, too much, and when finally it threatened to choke him, he gave it voice.

"Can I kiss you?"

It hadn't been what he thought he'd say, but with the asking came a strange sort of understanding, that it was what he'd needed to say. The realization hit him like a slow motion thunderclap: it felt like years, like centuries, like eons being compressed into a single moment. Into the half-lidded eyes gazing back at him, into a being who had surely been created of the earth itself, rather than the commonalities of flesh and blood. When Ronan breathed, he could smell the faintest scents of engine oil, of plain, store-brand soap, of wood and moss and leaves and magic. All too suddenly, after what felt like a thousand different lifetimes in the span of a second, Ronan realized that he was lying next to a miracle. 

He knew, then, that it was only right to ask.

Adam didn't respond for a moment; instead, a slow smile crept across his lips. Ronan was silent in the face of that expression, couldn't say anything even if he wanted to. That unnameable feeling returned, swelling through his chest to fill his lungs and heart and head and limbs and drown him in its waves. It was the feeling of the wind through leaves, the smell of the Barns, the sound of tires screeching and engines roaring. It was the trees speaking Latin, and the Pig growling around him. Adam's smile was everything, everything that had mattered to him and would ever matter, and when he shifted, leaning in to kiss him, Ronan knew he was lost. 

The kiss was a gentle thing, made of the soft tips of moths' wings and the downy feathers of newborn birds. Ronan's eyes closed, the movement unconscious as he tipped his head up to kiss Adam better. His every sense came alive as Adam shifted above him, the pressure of his lips a fraction harder, a fraction more substantial. Ronan's breath caught, sliding his hand from tousled hair as Adam pulled back just a little, just enough so their noses barely touched. He could feel Adam's breath against his lips, instinctively chasing after him for another brief kiss.

And then Adam laughed, breathy. "Like that?" He teased quietly.

Ronan opened his eyes, his heart jumping at the sight of reddened cheeks and dark eyes, a smile that was simultaneously nervous and hopeful and happy, all at the same time. Adam was serious. Adam was serious, and Ronan didn't know how he could bear it. He brushed his hand back through dun hair, and then once more afterward, before trawling his fingers along Adam's jaw, bringing him closer. This was a bolder move, more daring, and he leaned up to meet him halfway, to give weight and meaning this time. Adam's eyes fell closed as this new kind of kiss introduced itself. This was acknowledgment, recognition. It was a confession and a deference, and it terrified Ronan more than he could say. What if Adam rejected him after this? 

When they pulled apart this time, Adam looked at him for a long minute. It felt like an eternity, and Ronan could feel his face growing hot. "What? Why do you keep staring at me?"

It was a moment before Adam responded, his voice low. He was still nervous, Ronan realized. "I just want to make sure I'm not dreaming," Adam confessed, his own cheeks reddening. "I don't know what I'd do if I was."

"I wouldn't want to wake up," came the words, and Ronan knew immediately that they were true. "If this was a dream, I'd stay here with you."

Adam was silent for a long time, his eyes tracing back and forth across Ronan's face. And slowly, slowly, a smile lit his face, even more radiant than before. Adam kissed him again, a solid but quick thing, before leaning to kiss his cheek as well. He shifted to lay down again, this time against Ronan's side, his head pillowed on his chest.

"I can hear your heart like this, y'know," Adam murmured. Ronan curled his arm around him, shifting to kiss the crown of his head. "I think I'd stay, too." A pause. "Yeah. Definitely."

Ronan didn't move as Adam curled around him, didn't say anything as his heart took off in leaps and bounds. Adam could hear it, hell, could probably _feel_ it — there was no use pretending otherwise. His glance shifted downwards as fingers crawled across his chest, and when he took Adam's hand, Ronan knew there was nothing in this world that could make him let go.


End file.
